deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Edge

I sat and watched you fight the current
as you were bashed along the jutted rocks,
fighting for your life...
gasping for air...
mind gone adrift...


I was there.

When the pain became too much to bear
and nearly swept you over the edge
as you clung on for dear life,
to that tiny
little
rock

I offered you my hand,
In the utmost care,
but I just couldnít reach you.
You couldn't see me there.

THAT is when I grasped despair.
NewBeginnings
Written by NewBeginnings
Published
Author's Note
You can only help someone once they decide they want the help...

PLEASE read and watch this incredible video which helped to inspire the poem:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7MZocbMfElc
You can only help someone once they decide they want the help...

PLEASE read and watch this incredible video which helped to inspire the poem:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7MZocbMfElc

I began to think of the irony... the man wanted so bad to end his life, but by the end was begging for the rescuers to not let him go. It made me think of my mom and her struggle with addiction, and how she's drowning in it, so to speak. I can throw her a raft, but she will never grab on until she is ready to be saved. She clings to her rock like the man clings to his rock... Except he decided he wanted to be saved. And his rock was was his savior, rather than his kryptonite.
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